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Event: Of Blood and Honor Part 3
Don't count on the following as being 100% complete. While it gets the point across, I feel that the duel/showdown between Marissa and Dontaine needs to be epic. Some of this is epic, but I'm thinking there needs to be more. Especially saber play. We'll see. Since her conception, in the Triumph of Prophecy campaign, Marissa has always come to the adult Blade and Katana, blinded by Dontaine. We wanted that to be true in this one too. But once again, it was never detailed. So after a start a few months back and getting shelved, the story finally gets told. Hopefully, this will start to thread some loose ends back into the story so they are left dangling. Of Blood and Honor Part 3 Hope was not lost on the trio as they began to plan for the rescue of Bryanna Kord. Marcus was able to utilize a couple of contacts on Ord Mantell to set up permits for the ship to enter the Core Worlds. There would still be a strong Imperial presence within the Core, but for the most part, the Empire tried to maintain a clean image there. That would be one advantage the group had. Corana’s credits paid for everything, including some less conspicuous clothing for the group. In preparation, Graydon sorted out his weapons and equipment, narrowing down his usual choices to the knife that Deshawn and Moraine had given him on his eighteenth birthday. Both Graydon and Allyson had received one, a crafted blade that was made in the tradition of the Jinsai. The Ben’sai knife was just as deadly as a Warblade, yet easier to conceal. Its alloy construction made the blade capable of punching through most composite materials, including armor. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. The plan was simple: Marcus would cause a distraction that would get Corana and Graydon through customs and out of the starport. At that time, the pair would make their way to Waldin’s office or home and negotiations for the release of Bryanna could occur. Then, hopefully, the pair could discreetly return to the ship and depart with Bryanna in their care. But as usual, things never go as planned. The wait time to land the ship on planet had taken nearly seven hours alone. Not to mention that the deck crews took their time securing the freighter once it set down. Then, walking down the ramp, Graydon immediately took notice of two humans, a male and female, coming their way. Marcus was still in the ship, near the engineering station, waiting to pull a fuel dump that would cause an immediate evacuation of the area. Sure, he would be fined for it, but Corana had already fronted him the credits to cover re- supply and legal fees. Watching the pair coming towards them, Graydon called back up the ramp to Marcus. “Hey Marcus.” Graydon called. “Looks like we’ve got visitors.” A minute went by as Graydon and Corana waited near the base of the ramp, watching the advancing pair. Marcus eventually poked his head down the ramp, looking in the direction that Graydon nodded. “Oh boy. Not good, lad.” Marcus said. “Here comes trouble.” “What should we do?” Graydon asked. “Stay quiet. Hopefully this will pass without a shot fired.” The human male, a tall, graying man pushing his middle years, strode up to within three meters of the ramp. Dressed in a green flight suit, Graydon noted that he was one of the few within the docking area that had a weapon strapped to his leg. His female companion was dressed the same with a blaster on her hip, dark hair pulled back from her face into a loose braid. “So, I suppose you’ll want to come aboard and search the cargo hold.” Marcus said with a rather sarcastic air. “Captain Morgan.” The man said with a raspy voice. “Why you’d show your face around here is a question I’ve been asking since I saw your ship on the registry.” “So you’re here for your normal harassment?” “You can either give me permission to come on board or I’ll come up that ramp and twist it out of you.” Graydon, Corana, and even the female standing with the man looked at each other, all three questioning the exchange that they were witnessing. Graydon was sure that Marcus and this man knew each other, but wasn’t sure in what capacity. There was a moment of awkward silence between the men. “Alright.” Marcus said. “But you better have brought the whiskey this time.” Both men laughed as the older, gray man walked up the ramp and embraced Marcus in a friendly hug. “I didn’t know if they were still on speaking terms.” Said the female as she approached Graydon and Corana. “After the last time, on Corellia, things looked rocky.” “You know Marcus?” Graydon asked. “Yeah. Oh, I’m Angella Chylde.” The woman answered, extending her hand to Graydon. “Bren and I are doing an escort detail for CorSec. I’m a little surprised to see the Jasmyne here on Coruscant.” “We hired Marcus to bring us here for some sight seeing.” Graydon responded, motioning to Corana. “Tourists?” Angella asked, looking the two over. “You hired a freighter to take you sight-seeing?” “Our last port of call didn’t leave us with a lot of options in transportation.” Corana added in. “Sure.” Angella said. There was a layer of sarcasm thick in her voice. “Then why are you two guarding the ramp?” “Guarding? We… I… We were waiting for the Captain.” Graydon tried to provide some cover. “Calm down, blue eyes.” Angella said with a chuckle. “I’m not here to do a customs inspection. Besides, I’m not going to bust my best friend’s dad for coming to the capital. Come on. Let’s make sure the old guys aren’t getting into trouble.” The three went up the ramp, into the freighter that Graydon had called home for the past few months. Entering the small crew area, the trio found Marcus and the Corellian Security Major sitting at the small table, laughing and passing a small flask back and forth. “Ah, here they are!” Marcus said when he noticed the others had come in. “Bren Inarro, I’d like you to meet Dane Sandoval and his companion, Corana.” Marcus motioned towards Graydon and Corana. “It’s a damn shame you got wrapped up with the likes of Morgan, here.” Bren said as he stood up and shook Graydon and Corana’s hands. “Good to meet you, sir.” Graydon said, standing rigidly next to Corana, trying to watch everyone at once. He wasn’t sure what was occurring, but he was attempting to be ready in case there was trouble. “Relax.” Bren said. “You’re standing around like you’ve got a force pike crammed up your backside. You’re going to stick out like a sore thumb here if you keep that kreffing act up.” “I… I’m just trying to show proper respect.” “Relax, lad.” Marcus added. “These two are family friends. No worries here.” With that, Marcus stood and walked to Angella, giving her a tight hug. “Have you heard from CJ?” Angella asked Marcus as he released her from his embrace. “Not for a while, lass.” Marcus responded. “Last I knew she was working in the Peruvian Sector.” “It’s good to see you, old man.” Angella said with a big smile. Graydon watched as Bren and Angella began talking back and forth, quickly catching up with each other. There was an easy sense of camaraderie and family between these three, which made him think back to a time, long ago, when he had all the members of his family together. He had known happiness then. Since the end of the Clone Wars, Graydon had felt like he needed to constantly watch over his shoulder, looking for unseen threats. Under his assumed identity of Dane Sandoval, Graydon had remained hidden for over fifteen years. He knew that the Imperials wanted him captured. Along with Allyson, the twins would be used as pawns to force his native people, the Antrixians, to surrender or end their rebellion against the Empire. His brother, Dontaine, wasn’t any better. If Dontaine had any say, the twins would fall to the Dark side and serve as tools to start a war that would give Dontaine more power than he deserved. Dontaine had betrayed his people and his family, and because of that, Dontaine could never be allowed to continue on with his revolt. “So Marcus tells me you need help tracking down this young lady’s sister.” Bren said, snapping Graydon back to reality. Bren motioned towards Corana. “Well, yes.” Graydon responded. “We think she’s been taken and sold as a slave.” “Damn shame.” Bren stated. “She’s not an Imperial citizen, so I think the laws that would protect her don’t…” Graydon was suddenly cut off. He stumbled back, his hand going to his head. Corana immediately rushed to his side. “Are you okay?” She asked, very concerned. “I think I felt a disturbance in the Force.” Graydon answered absently. “You brought a damn Jedi to Coruscant?” Bren asked, frowning at Marcus. “I didn’t know.” Marcus responded. ---- Tendrils of smoke crawled across to the deckplates like ghostly fingers. Standing in the midst of the wispy smoke and sparks, the young male turned slowly, looking into the darkness. His red Lightsaber droned on with it’s steady low hum, casually angled down towards the floor. The male, Dontaine Strykia, reached out through the Force, attempting to locate his opponent. Although he appeared calm, his emotions were a torrent of anger and rage on the inside. The red glow coming from around the irises of his eyes also gave away his frustrated feelings in not being able to find her. This duel was going to be the last between these two opponents if he had any say in it. Twice before had Dontaine faced his own mother in combat, each time the duel had ended with her retreat. Out of 11 T'stayans and 4 Shaido Jinsai that had arrived with him, Donatine was all that was left. His guards had been, one-by-one, picked off, drawing him into this area, an old ore processing area on this derelict station. He was certain that the beacon signal they had detected was also going to draw the Imperials here, also. Dontaine knew this was going to have to be a quick battle. Dontaine was certain that he could best her. His arrogance in his own abilities far outweighing his actual experience and strength. The one advantage he did have was his lack of compassion. He didn’t care. If his mother was to die today, that would put Dontaine one step closer to achieving his goal. That goal was to take back the High Seat of the Antrixian Commonwealth which he felt was his by birthright. Never mind if he had committed parricide to attempt to achieve his position. Ignore the fact that his own people and their government, the Antrixian Landsraad, had stripped him of all rights. So what if the wench Syanne Harkness and her band of Imperials controlled the Commonwealth right now. It was his. But first, he had to wrap up the current loose end. “Come now mother.” He said aloud. “Are we going to do this dance again? You strike then fade? Not very Jinsai of you.” “You dare to speak of Jinsai honor, Reaper?” Dontaine whipped around quickly, peering into the shadows, searching for the disembodied voice that came to him, his saber up and ready. It seemed to come from all around him, rather than from one specific direction. The set of his jaw said that his emotions were rising to the boiling point. The flare in the glow of his eyes was a dead giveaway that he was giving in to his anger and frustration. “You know that the Jinsai Tribunes and clans have stripped you. Even the Landsraad has stripped you. You are Gaishain. You broke your oaths.” Marissa had chosen her hiding spot well, letting the natural acoustics of the old ore processing station carry her voice and project it from where she was. “Oh no… Not the sacred oaths.” Dontaine let out a laugh. Instead of allowing her to bait him into a total fit of rage, he changed tactics and began to combat her words with sarcasm. “They’re going to bow down when the Commonwealth falls to me. Those oaths will mean nothing. Then I can do whatever I want, regardless of my status with that rabble.” “I thought we taught you better than that, Dontaine.” Marissa said, with a degree of compassion in her voice. “The Emperor betrayed us all. His Imperials set the trap and we took the bait. You don’t have to make enemies of your own people. The Empire stands in your way for your desires, but I know your dreams. You want what we all want. You want your family and home.” “No… NO! I want the power that I was promised.” Dontaine shouted. “You want to have your little boy back by your side to be your beck and call servant. Too bad that Graydon and Allyson died, otherwise you could have had that. I, on the other hand, will not lower myself to that. I am above you.” “Have you fallen that far, my son?” “Oh ho… I have touched the mother inside you. Did you know that they called out for you right before… Right before Harkness extinguished their pitiful lives? She enjoyed hearing their screams.” “You lie.” Marissa felt a touch of emotion begin to rise inside of her. While it wasn’t much, the telltale sign of it inflected her words. “Ah… so they are alive?” Dontaine began to laugh again. “Good. They’ll serve as the perfect pawns in my plans.” “Not so long as I have breath. NOW!” Marissa’s shout preceded the activation of another lightsaber, blue bladed, and a small, lithe figure spiraling down from a support beam to land in front of Dontaine. Almost simultaneously, Marissa sprang from her hiding spot, charging towards her estranged son with her own Lightsaber whirling in blinding arcs as it sprang to life. “Hello Reaper. You’re reign of terror ends!” Said the small figure, the Knyden Jinsai master, Les’sa Drima, her tan robes flowing out behind her and her long silver hair cascading down her shoulders. Dontaine first parried her initial strike, and then spun to parry Marissa’s attack behind him. “Master Drima! I am surprised that Lady Harkness hasn’t ended your life yet. So be it. Your journey will end here!” Dontaine spat as he flashed through a myriad of maneuvers with his lightsaber, parrying, slashing, and spinning in defense and attack. “Those are confident words for a fool.” The lithe Knyden Jinsai held her ground as she countered and struck out against her Antrixian rival. Marissa and Drima had planned this encounter for weeks, intending on finishing Dontaine here and now. With Marissa joining the fray, Dontaine knew that the scale of battle had tipped away from him. Against Drima, he knew he could best her. Against Marissa, his mother, though. The dark side had allowed him to match her in power before, but the Force wasn’t always there for him lately. He could still perform his regular feats without concern, but the great strength he had once garnered from the call of the dark side seemed to be fading. Perhaps he couldn’t best his mother. Perhaps he had lived through their encounters because of her compassion towards him. He needed more from the Force than ever before at that moment. He couldn’t get that unless he was prepared to go even further down the dark path. At that moment he decided that killing her wasn’t enough. Killing Master Drima was one thing. Torturing his mother after he defeated her and making her show him where the twins were… Now that was something else. Her death, at the appropriate moment would help convert the twins. Both of them. They would be his pawns then. New servants of the dark side. While this had crossed his mind before, he had believed that he would end up killing both of the twins eventually. He had never really considered having two apprentices to serve him. These thoughts coursed through his mind in the blink of an eye. Dontaine found himself having a vision within that split second. He ruled the galaxy from Antrixies and Coruscant. Syanne Harkness wore scant clothing, a mere slave bound to him, chained to the throne from which he ruled. His younger brother and sister stood to either side of him, garbed in black and twisted by the dark side. With the twins as his enforcers, he ruled an empire like no other had before him. The Jedi and the Sith were trivial compared to the new order he had created. The dark side had baited Dontaine yet again. Lightsabers clashed against each other, red against blue, green against red. Pressed, Dontaine feinted left and right, parrying first one saber, then the other. Looking for an opening to use in a counter-attack, he found none. His mother and the Knyden had come prepared for this duel. Marissa was immersed in the Force, allowing the mystical energy to guide her movements, keeping her son pressed into a defensive stance. To allow him an opening in which he could turn and begin an attack could turn deadly for the Jinsai facing him. Master Drima flowed through a more fluid barrage of swirls and arcs, where Marissa kept her style solid and unmoving. Dontaine knew that this fight would end in his defeat if he did not act quickly. Quickly parrying, he shot himself backwards into a mid air flip, landing away from the Jinsai. His rage was seething, but he felt purpose and destiny now in front of him. “THIS ENDS NOW!” With a beastial roar, Dontaine shot his arms out in front of him, quickly and forcefully, almost as if to push the air with all his might. A visible wave of kinetic energy, a wall of solidified air, cascaded out from him, arcing towards Marissa and Drima. They had little time to respond as the nearly invisible barrier slammed into them, sending both Jinsai back, through the air, crashing against the wall. The effort left him drained, yet he knew his opening was small and he had to act with haste. Stalking forward, managing more than a stagger through determination alone, Dontaine went to his closer target, Drima. The Knyden was struggling to rise from the crumpled heap she had fell into when the Force Wave crashed her into a support strut. She looked up, hearing the heavy boot steps, just as Dontaine thrust his red saber blade into her mid section. “I told you, Drima.” Dontaine said, breathing heavily. “I told you that your journey ended here.” She cried out as the lightsaber pierced her body. Dontaine, in his exhausted state, immediately thought that he had delivered the killing blow, especially when she slumped over after he freed his blade. Straightening, Dontaine began to scan the room for his mother. His search took but a fraction of a minute, seeing her attempting to rise from debris that had been cast against the bulkhead, along with her body. Still exhausted, he knew this was his moment to strike. But she was beginning to regain her footing and her lightsaber was still in hand. He had no time to waste. Mustering his strength, he ran towards her, intent on disarming her and rendering her incapacitated. Marissa had regained enough of her senses that she saw Drima struck down by her son. She knew that she was next. When she saw him begin to run in her direction, Marissa knew she must act, or all would be lost. All her planning and preparing would come to an end. She sensed a terrible darkness in the Force approaching her. Dontaine was intent on taking her saber hand off, then striking her to knock Marissa unconscious. But he didn’t intend on her striking at him first. Marissa’s saber swung in a quick, blinding arc. Dontaine barely had enough time to parry the first strike. But when the second, third and forth strike came at him, his rage took over, his plans forgotten. “I loved you, my son!” Marissa panted as she made a desperate feint to her right, before quickly swinging up, over his head, and just as quick, straight down. If Dontaine had been a fraction slower, Marissa’s personal quest of retribution would have come to an end. Realizing the feint, Dontaine began to pull back, away from his mother. He knew she was going to best him in a face-to-face duel. He also knew that his plan, and his vision, had been just another seduction of the dark side. The power which drove him constantly, betrayed him continuously. It had all dissolved inside of mere seconds. But he could not let the light prevail. Even as he pulled back, he knew that his own beliefs had betrayed him. The burning bite of Marissa’s green saber started at his nose, gouging down his face to his mouth and chin, then still lower to his neck and upper chest. Only his backward momentum saved him from mortal wounds. Only the tip of the saber blade had done enough though. Screaming, the pain and the rage sent Dontaine swinging outward, blindly. Marissa, surprised that she had scored a hit, yet sorrowful that she harmed her own son, was unprepared for the swings coming from her wailing opponent. She sensed his pain through the Force, although she did not sense his intent because there was none. His actions were purely reflexive. Her only reaction to the lightsaber blade coming into contact with her was one of pure Force to deflect it. All went black. ---- The crew cabin was very quiet after Bren’s statement to Marcus. Everyone looked at everyone else, trying to determine who might make a move against who. Tension was quickly growing. Angella, thankful broke the silence first. “Is it true?” She asked, looking at Graydon. He didn’t see apprehension in her face when he looked into her eyes. Instead, there was a twinkle of something else, possibly hopefulness. There wasn’t the prejudice that the Empire had bred into the galaxy in her expression. It was more like a curiosity. She looked at him like he was a living legend. It was in part true. Graydon’s revelation put Angella into a time that she had only heard of in stories. When she was young, Angella had spent a great deal of time with Marcus’ daughter, CJ, when the later was staying with family on Corellia. Marcus’ own mother had fueled the girls’ imagination with tales of the old Jedi Knights and how they had quested against evils throughout the galaxy. Those times were long gone by the time Angella had set foot out, into the galaxy. “I’m not a Jedi.” Graydon answered quietly. “But you said…” “He doesn’t have to be a Jedi to be Force-sensitive.” Bren interrupted. “You are Force-sensitive though, aren’t you, boy?” “Yes.” Graydon expected Bren to take him into custody right then. It would serve him right, for not guarding his thoughts and tongue better. “Damn.” Bren shook his head. “This makes things a little more interesting. If the Imps catch wind of you, we’re all going to Kessel for a long time.” “You mean you’re not going to arrest him?” Corana broke her silence. She had been standing next to Graydon, watching the whole situation in disbelief. Her question wasn’t accusing, just surprised to find an authority figure that bent the rules here, in the Core. “No girl. I’m not going to arrest him. There aren’t enough heroes left in the galaxy that want to do right when somebody’s in trouble.” Bren answered. “I’m damn sure not going to take somebody to the Imperials that’ll make a better thorn in their side than the two-bit crooks we chase down every day.” “So yer plannin’ to help still?” Marcus asked. “Yeah, I’m gonna help.” Bren shook his head. “Probably going to get me kreffing killed in the process too.” “All right old man, what are you proposing?” Angella chimed in. “It’s not going to be easy, but I think I know where to start.” Bren answered. “I have a contact in the Southern Underground district. Look up Jynner. He’ll be able to point you in the right direction.” “Oh no.” Angella moaned in disgust. “Not Robbie ‘I know a guy’ Jynner.” “That’s him.” “He’s scum.” Angella said, looking towards Graydon and Corana. “He’ll sell your boots out from under you while you’re still wearing them if you’re not careful.” “Aye.” Marcus intoned. “But he’s our best bet right now, lass.” “We’re going to have to split up.” Bren added. “Ang and I are out of our jurisdiction here and two CorSec agents are going to stick out like a sore thumb. We’ll be there to help, just not really visible.” “I understand.” Graydon said. “This is up to us, but I appreciate any help.” Once that was said and done, the group disembarked and made their separate ways through the spaceport to public transportation. Marcus went and rented a speeder while Graydon and Corana took a public tram to the Southern Underground district. Marcus would meet them later, after they made contact with Bren’s contact. Graydon had to marvel at the sight of Imperial Center, the world that was officially known as Coruscant, but called Imperial Center now because it was the home of Emperor Palpatine. Darth Sidious. Graydon recalled that much from his last moments spent with his mother. He recalled that she had warned the defending Jinsai that the Sith had finally shown themselves and that the Sith Lord behind the Clone Wars was probably in control of the Republic at that time. When Palpatine had announced himself as Galactic Emperor, Graydon was able to put two and two together. The Sith wanted power and control, that much he knew. Palpatine, the Chancellor he had once met now had power and control, plus a Sith Lord under his control, Darth Vader. That was enough to know that Palpatine had been the Sith master all along. His reflexive response to Palpatine on that day, long ago, was one of subconscious reaction. Somewhere, deep within him or the Force, he had seen through the man’s mask. Too bad he hadn’t been trained better. He might have known sooner and been able to alert his mother, who in turn could have alerted the Jedi. How different would things have been then? Still, Graydon took in the scenery, noting that it didn’t look that much different from the last time he was here. Life for the majority of the Coreworld inhabitants went the same as it did in the days of the Republic, just under a different government. They were blissfully ignorant of the conflicts brewing further out in the galaxy. Sometime later, the tram arrived at the public station in the Hasamadhi Warehouse district. The Southern Underground was located in the sector beneath the Warehouse district and was known as one of the rougher areas of Coruscant. Granted, it wasn’t the roughest, but it held a nice middle ground between slum and ramshackle area. The crime in the Southern Underground wasn’t as bad as it was in the district known as the Works, but many things could be had that were considered illegal in the surface of Coruscant. It took Graydon and Corana some time to descend down into the Southern Underground, but they made it safely. Once they were in, they followed some of the rough directions Bren had given them upon their departure from the ship. Going to The Old Winehouse tavern, Graydon led Corana inside, instantly aware that all eyes were on them as they entered. Corana nervously fingered the hold-out blaster in her coat pocket as they approached the bar and Graydon gripped his knife in one hand, just to be at the ready should they need their weapons. Once at the bar, they were approached by a green-skinned Dubravan barmaid. Leaning over the bar towards Graydon, she smiled and made sure to expose a generous amount of cleavage for his viewing. Graydon quickly averted his gaze, trying instead to focus on her eyes. The barmaid’s smile only widened. “So, blue eyes,” She said in heavily accented Basic. “What can I get for you? Perhaps you like what you see already.” “Thanks, but no thanks.” Graydon responded. “I’m looking for a man. Maybe you can help me find him.” “Sorry sweetie.” The alien responded. ‘Never heard of him.” “But I didn’t even give you his name.” About then, Corana pushed in next to Graydon, sliding a credit chit across the bar to in front of the Dubravan. The barmaid looked down, then at Corana. “Maybe I can help.” The alien woman responded. “Good.” Corana responded. “His name is Jynner. You know him?” “Yeah.” The woman responded. “I know him. You sure you want him?” “We’re hoping he can answer a couple questions.” Corana said. “Good luck.” The alien replied. “He probably knows whatever your looking for, but don’t trust him. You can find him on Level three, twenty-one eighteen-a.” “Thanks.” Both Graydon and Corana breathed a sigh of relief as they exited the Winehouse. Eventually, after searching diligently, they were able to find markings that led them to Level three. Within moments , they were standing outside of what appeared to be a modest apartment complex where twenty-one eighteen-a was supposed to be located. Once they found the door, both stopped and silently collected themselves before proceeding. Corana gave Graydon a nod as he looked at her before pushing the call button on the door for eighteen-a. ---- The man known as Robbie “I know a guy” Jynner was a weasel of a human. Small in stature, almost petite, with sharp facial features and eyes that some would call beady. The Corellian native had moved from Corellia to the underworld of the galactic capital years ago, partially because he had sold out too many of his former associates to CorSec, and partially because the rest of his usual clientele knew his typical schemes too well. When he didn’t have anyone else to sell out in order to keep himself out of the detention centers, Jynner knew his best bet was to uproot his “practice” and take it elsewhere. The galactic capital, along with a contact in Black Sun made the Southern Underground district look very attractive. Jynner would brag behind closed doors of his ties to Black Sun. In reality, his ties were nothing more than a simple sewer guard/technician that watched over the tunnels that ran under what was supposed to be the palace of the head of Black Sun. Jynner tried to intimidate people that came to him for information and black market goods, using the Black Sun name. Sometimes it worked. The criminal organization had enough of a mythos surrounding it that no one wanted to test the waters of crossing paths on the wrong side. Jynner knew and he tried to use it to his advantage. When the call box squawked at him, he shambled to the door in a haze. The Death sticks he’d purchased and used the night before had definitely “troned” him today. Still, he was running short on credits and needed some business headed his way. The door chime was hopefully somebody looking for some business. The door opened and there stood a skinny little man with sharp features. Both Graydon and Corana looked at each other and then back to the scrawny human. So this was the man that Bren had said could help them? “Jynner?” Corana asked. “Yeah.” He replied. He rubbed his eyes with both hands, trying to clear up his vision. “Who the kref are you?” “My name’s Cora and this is my partner, Dane.” Corana answered. “We were told you could provide some… assistance.” “Well, that’s what I do.” By this time, Jynner’s sight had improved a bit. He gave Graydon a quick up and down look, sneering and almost pulling back away from him. But when he saw Corana, his eyes went wide and he kept looking her up and down. “I believe I can be of some assistance to you.” He said, almost hungrily. Motioning for them to follow him inside, Jynner led the pair into a ramshackle apartment that was cluttered with trash and discarded items. Graydon wrinkled his nose at the mix of foul smells that permeated the air inside. Jynner quickly cleaned off a stool and offered it to Corana, leaving Graydon standing and ignoring the fact that a proper host would offer both guests a seat. “So what’s it going to be?” Jynner asked, licking his lips and eyeing Corana. “I’ve got connections for guns, spice, whatever you need. I know a guy that can get you anything.” “Actually, I need information.” Corana responded. “That, I can probably get.” Jynner said, smiling wide. “What do you know about an Imperial pad pusher that has a taste for, let’s say, females that might not be willing to have him for company?” “There’s lots of them, up in those towers on the surface.” Jynner’s smile became even wider. “Some are willing to come down here from time to time ‘cause the girls will let them pay to be rough.” “I’m talking more along the lines of slavery.” Corana hastily said. The man’s comment had sent a chill up her spine. “Slavery, huh?” Jynner rubbed his chin as he thought. “I only know one that has a taste for kept women. His last one was a Twi’lek girl that he choked with a chain when she finally tried to escape.” “So you do know who we’re looking for?” Corana was visibly excited. “Oh yeah.” Jynner replied. “Lucky for you he’s a low-life. Easier to find, right? Grego Waldin. He’s a Shipping Officer in the Hasamadhi district, right above us.” “Well, that is fortunate. Thank you for your assistance.” Corana began to stand to leave. “Whoa, whoa. Not so fast.” Jynner’s hand had slipped inside his dirty jacket. “Info ain’t free, cutie. We can negotiate, of course. Whatcha say to a hundred credits and you come in the back with me for a while?” “How about a hundred credits and we let you live?” Corana had slipped her hand back into her jacket, fingering her blaster. “I’m sure your boyfriend won’t mind.” Jynner’s mouth twisted into a wicked grin as he produced a blaster from his own jacket. As soon as the weapon was out and free, Graydon made his move, not even giving Corana or Jynner time to react. His Jinsai training made him a blur of motion as he kicked the weapon from the con artist’s hand and then delivered a punch to his chest that sent the pathetic man sprawling back, onto the floor. Graydon was upon him before Jynner could even begin to recover, knife held to the man’s throat. “How about you stay alive and we walk away now?” Graydon said, trying to remain focused and calm. “I… I got ties to Black Sun.” Jynner quickly spat out. “You’re gonna pay for this if you hurt me.” “I’ve never heard of them and I don’t care.” Graydon’s eyes flashed a bright blue glow. “You threatened us first. I’m promising you last.” “Alright… Fine! Go! Just get away from me!” “I think that’s a fair price.” Corana said as she began backing towards the door with Graydon following. ---- Dontaine staggered back to the shuttle at the docking hatch. His pain was incredible and he called upon the Force to keep him upright, his reserves completely spent after his encounter. Even through his pain, Dontaine took some amount of victory from the battle. Both of his opponents had been left lying dead on the floor of the station. He was sure of that. But his pride was scarred. His mother had done more than kill him, she had disfigured him. He knew that much. The vanity of the dark side made the anger well up inside of him. At least she was dead, just like his father. Tripping over a T’stayan, slain by Marissa in the initial boarding action, Dontaine finally managed to reach the shuttle. The Vian, Whenya, met him as he burst through the airlock. “My Lord!” She exclaimed. “You’re wounded!” “Get me back to the Blacktooth! Now!” His words were garbled, but still understandable. “Yes, my Lord!” ---- Marissa slowly woke, aware that every muscle ached, every nerve feeling like it was on fire. Everything was black. Reaching out with the Force, Marissa found a vaguely familiar presence next to her. She tried to sit up, but a hand quickly, yet carefully pushed on her shoulder to ease her back down. “It’s alright. You’re safe, Wynd.” A male voice spoke. Blindly, Marissa grasp at the hand on her shoulder. Following it up the owner’s arm, Marissa found muscular shoulders and long hair hanging down. “Who… Who are you? Where’s Drima?” A sense of sorrow welled up again in her. The memory of the fight between the two Jinsai and Dontaine coming back. The memory of Drima falling to Dontaine’s blade was there. “Easy.” The voice spoke again. “Drima was able to get you from the station and to help. Her determination served her well, but she fell to her injuries as soon as she had seen to you. I’m sorry.” “Her sacrifice was valiant, if not unneeded.” Marissa summoned up the Force to help calm herself. Now that she was becoming more aware, she felt the patches that covered the upper part of her face. Lifting her hand from the other’s shoulder, she lightly traced the bandage pads and bacta mask that covered her eyes, upper nose, cheekbones, and forehead. Stretching out with the Force, Marissa began to form a picture of her surroundings: A medical room of some type. The other person with her was tall with thick, blonde hair that hung loosely down, across his shoulders. Most of all, his eyes had a slight blue glow. The other details were blurry. “Yes.” The voice responded. “But she did make sure you were here and cared for. Now the question that I have is how do we proceed?” “We?” Marissa raised her head to look at the man. The gesture was more for his benefit than hers. The Force was beginning to allow her to see, even without her eyes. “I’ll not have you be alone until we have your eyes repaired. Reaper’s blade apparently blinded you.” The man answered. “No.” Marissa responded back. “Losing my eyes was for my arrogance. I’ll have to rely on my other senses from this day forward.” A comforting smile crossed her lips, again more for the sake of the other tan for her. “The Force willing, I will be fine.” “As you say.” His voice, while respectful, held a hint of veiled defiance. Marissa sensed more than heard his stubborn nature rearing. Immediately, she recalled how Graydon had been stubborn in his training, especially when she had been presumptuous of him. She had often joked that it was a family trait. The memory was fresh in her mind and she couldn’t help but to raise her hand to touch the face of the man sitting by her bed. The touch helped focus more details through the Force. The looks and the hair, the Jinsai knife at his side… There was an almost recognition in her mind. “Who are you, young Jinsai?” “I know it has been years, but I though you’d sense me.” The man responded. “Has my mind changed that much, Aunt Marissa?” “Therryn!” Category:Events